The Girl in Red
by Mammps
Summary: Eva has had a life of Horror before she met her father, Jethro Gibbs. Now she meets Timothy McGee. Both are blissfully unaware of each others connection to Jethro Gibbs. How will their relationship grow? And what will happen when they realise the other already knows Jethro Gibbs. Rated T ready for future chapters. May be changed later. Tim/oc
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

My life had been a rollercoaster of pain and destruction. I doubt anybody near me was safe, at all, ever. There is only one person I could trust. Mark. My guardian. My saviour. My protector. Mark used to be a naval officer but left the service when my Mom paid him to protect us. He's been here since I was five. Eleven years. Or I should say _was there_.

My Mother and I used to live just outside of Washington DC in a town called Penrose, not far from the Army Navy country club. Mom had always said that she had met my Father at the club, apparently he was member. I wasn't sure whether to believe it, she always had told fancy tales about my Father. I still believed he was a Navy man, that never changed in her tales, but I never believed he was a member there, nor did I believe that that was where they met. Father and Mom had been, apparently, friends when he was married to another woman but when he lost both his wife and daughter, they had a night of weakness, a night of sex.

I was the result, but he never knew. As soon as Mom found out, she ran. She said she never told him I even existed. She said that she was expecting him to reject me. She didn't want me to live having a father that had rejected me, so she ran.

We lived happily for a while. Five years to be exact. It was on my fifth birthday where things went down the drain. Mother had taken me into Washington centre to celebrate my birthday. We didn't know the centre well and so I suppose it wasn't surprising that we got lost. We found ourselves in a dark alleyway. I don't think either of us was sure how we ended up there but we did and it turned into our greatest nightmares. There, right in front of our eyes was a murder. A man lay on the floor, blood everywhere. He was wailing around as though he was in a great amount of pain which, undoubtedly, he was. Five men were stood around him. All had dangerous weapons in their hands and blood on their clothes, well, all except the man in the centre. The obvious boss. I hadn't recognised it, I was young, but my Mom had. We had just walked in on a gang murder.

They spotted us immediately. We barely had time to breathe before they were already shouting at us. They were cursing, swearing, shouting. All in foreign accents. Mother didn't spare a minute, she grabbed my hand and pulled us out of the alley. We ran. We ran like we had never ran before. Mom even ditched her heels shoes so we could run faster.

We stopped only when we reached a more populated area. All thoughts of celebrating were gone. We found our car and left, hoping to forget that terrible night. And we almost did, if only a month or so later we hadn't received that threat. I had gone to school, Mom to work. I had arrived home first, my friends mom dropping me off. The first thing I had noticed was the door was unlocked. I didn't need to unlock it. I was sure that Mom had locked it that morning when we had left. The house had been trashed. It looked as though a hurricane had swept through the house. The lounge was the worst. Everything was broken. Picture had been smashed. Furniture thrown around the room, snapped in half. But worst of all there was message on a wall. A message in blood.

_Did you really think we wouldn't find you?_

I screamed, I screamed and I screamed. I didn't stop until Mom came rushing through the door. She screamed, her face pale white. She was shaking with terror. I may have been young but I knew something was wrong. We were in danger. Mom reacted instantly. She yelled at me to go and grab a bag and pack some clothes up. I did. Only clothes and bathroom stuff that would be needed. She put both her bag and my bag in the back of our car. We left Penrose that day. We never stepped foot in that town again.

We moved from hotel to hotel after that for quite some time, two months approximately. It was in Georgetown that Mom met Mark. I never learnt how they met, just that they met and Mom offered him a lot of money to come and protect us. And so two became three.

It almost went back to normal. Mark gave us false names, false ID's and more. We bought a house under this false identity. I was entered into a school, Mom got a job, and Mark was our protector. Eventually what started as being paid to protect us changed to wanting to protect us. He refused to accept any more money from my Mom saying he had enough to last him a lifetime. He told her to save it up for when I was older. We were able to live there for a whole year before we were found.

We weren't expecting to be found again, so soon, which is probably why everything happened the way it did. It was three months after my sixth birthday. We were sat watching a movie in the lounge. Mother was sat on the single chair while Mark and I shared the sofa. It had been Mark's turn to pick a movie so it wasn't surprising that we were watching a war movie. The man was obsessed with everything Navy and Army related. It was loud, with lots of bangs and explosions. One minute we were enjoying our movie, the next moment, glass from the lounge window was covering the floor of the lounge. We all stood. Mom ran to the window and peaked out. Her gasp said it all. Mark grabbed his gun and his knife and the bag we kept packed in case something just like this occurred. Mom ran to our sides.

"Go. Take her. Keep her safe. They're too close. Go out the basement. Go. Quickly." she told the both of us. We ran down to the basement expecting her follow but she close the door and locked it after Mark and I had gone through. I stopped and tried, in vain, to open the door. I was crying, screaming. "Mom! No! Mommy!"

I knew Mark was hurting as well but his calm nature kept him in the right sense of mind. He pulled me along, leaving her behind. He knew it had to be done. There was nothing we could do to help her.

Mark and I escaped down the tunnel that led from the basement. Mark had covered the entrance to it with something extremely heavy after we had passed through. He said they wouldn't be able to get through, but that also meant Mom, should she survive, wouldn't be able to get through either.

We made it to safety. It was a pre assigned spot that Mom and Mark had agreed would act as meeting point should we get split up. It was in a forest. A certain tree that had been carved into by a knife of some sort. A picture of an eagle had been carved into it. Mark and I climbed up it, just in case those wishing us harm came this way.

We waited for hours, until sunrise the next morning, but Mom never came. I never saw her again.

Her body had been discovered the next day by the local police. They had called it as a robbery gone wrong. I think they had meant to find her killer but it was no use. They never did. I knew who did it, and so did Mark, but telling could only mean death for us too. No, we remained silent.

We moved again, to another house, another neighbourhood, another town. Mark didn't allow the same mistake again. We only remained in the same place for only half a year before we moved again, under a different name, and a different story. Sometime we spent less than half a year in a certain place, it depended. If the crime rate had raised in the area, we would move. Mark had said the crime rate was the tracker that would give them away. Crime follows them everywhere.

For ten years that worked. We moved all around the States. We had gone to Phoenix, Arizona, Nevada, Washington, Michigan, Ohio, Illinois, Kansas, Montana, Nebraska, New York and the most recent Florida.

When nine years had passed since my Mother's death we returned to Washington DC. We moved into Buchanan Street, Washington, which is not far from Sherman Circle Park. I loved it there. The high school was only a few streets away. I actually made a friend in that place. I had never before. I knew I would just have to leave but Marie had crawled her way into my heart. She was my only friend and I seemed to be her only friend too.

We had been there for only three months. It was dark, night time. I was asleep in bed. I would admit, I had gone to bed early. I hadn't been feeling well. I was awoken suddenly by Mark. He was shaking my shoulders. He grabbed my 'just-in-case' bag from the corner and handed it to me.

"They're here. Hide. In the tree house. I'll make sure they don't follow you. Go. Quickly."

I nodded. I was still in my pyjamas but I had no time to change. I threw the bag on my back and made my way over to the window. I climbed out. Mark shut it behind me, shut the curtain, and disappeared.

I wasted no time getting to the tree house. I knew my life depended on my stealth. If I was too loud or I wasn't quick enough, I knew I would suffer for it. I shut myself securely up in the tree house. I left the light off. It was pitch black. There was only one window and it was on the hatch on the floor, the only entrance and exit. I rushed to cover it with the rug. I curled up on the rug, trying to ignore the shouts outside. There were three loud bangs. Three gun shots. I hoped beyond hope that none of those where aimed at, or hit, Mark. I was sure it was in vain, but I still hoped. I didn't dare leave the safety of the tree house, though I moved on to the more comfortable layer of pillows in the corner.

I lay awake for hours. I lost all sense of time, days could have passed and I wouldn't have known. I knew I couldn't stay awake forever, and I didn't. I soon fell into a fitful sleep. I wasn't found by someone until the next day and that was by Special Agent Caitlin Todd, from NCIS. NCIS were investigating the murder of Mark. I was taken in instantly and 'interrogated'. I told them everything, only to be left with more questions myself. Special Agent Gibbs, the leader of the team, had once knew my mother. After going so long without any mention of my mother it was strange to meet someone who knew her.

I was put under protection by NCIS until my case was over. After that there had been no guarantee. That was until Abby Sciuto, their forensic specialist, put my DNA into their computer system. It came up with a match. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was my father. My protection was now guaranteed, and I was given not only a home but a father as well. The gang leader and several of the main counterparts of the gang were caught and arrested. They were all charged with multiple life sentences thanks to evidence that I gave concerning not only Mark's murder but my mother's and the unknown man's in the alley way all those years ago.

My life became relatively normal after that. I had a father. I had a home that I could stay in for longer than a year. I went to school. I had friends, not just _a_ friend, but _friends_. Life was getting better.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

It's been seven years. Seven long years since the murder of Mark, and the murderer that killed him, my mother and the unknown man in alley way was thrown away in jail. Seven years since I found a normalcy in my life. Seven years since I found my father.

I had finished school, I went to University graduating with a degree in English. I have a job of my own. I was a freelance writer. Another chapter of my story appears in The Ladies magazine every month. When one story is completed, I start a new one. I am continuously writing and I love it. I keep in good contact with my father, despite his odd working hours. We talked on the phone every other day, and I usually visited him on a Sunday, if he's not working that is.

It was early on Tuesday. I had gone done to the new cafe that had been opened up beneath my apartment building. Carla's cafe. It was supposedly rather good. I was wearing my bright red coat that had been the stimulus behind my writing alias - The girl in the red coat.

I entered. I couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. My red coat stood out. Everything in here was a dark brown, the same colour as a coffee bean. They've obviously tried lighting it up with bright lights, but it still has a kind of dark atmosphere. I was unsure as to whether I liked it or not. I walked up to the counter ordered a Hot Chocolate. I took a sip as soon I received it. It was heavenly. It definitely made up for the dark feel to the place. I turned to take a seat somewhere. I looked around in astonishment. There were no tables free. I could almost feel my jaw drop. How could there be no tables. I looked at the occupants. None seem to be leaving anytime soon. I walked over to a table by the window. A man was sat at it, he was leant over a few pieces of paper. He seemed busy but he was the only person who was on their own.

"Um, excuse me?" I asked quietly.

He looked up. He was handsome, I'd give him that. Brownish-blond hair, green eyes, defined cheekbones and a strong jaw line. He was very handsome.

"There's no free tables. Would you I mind if I sat with you?" I asked.

He looked around, a look of disbelief on his face, before smiling back at me and nodding. "Feel free."

"Thanks."

I placed my Hot Chocolate down before taking a seat myself, putting my handbag down by my feet.

"So, do you have a name?" he asked nervously. He must be new to female attention.

I smiled. "Eva. Eva Summers. You?"

"Tim. Tim McGee. Well Timothy but I go by Tim most of the time." He babbled a little. Nerves.

I smiled. "Tim, it is then" I took a quick glance at his paper. I didn't see much in the short glance that I had but I saw enough to know what it was. _Chapter three._ He was a writer.

"You're a writer" I stated.

He looked at me surprised, almost as though he had no idea how I knew. I nodded to the papers in front of him. He followed my gaze and then chuckled a little.

"It's just a hobby. This is my first. But I haven't got very far and I'm already stuck." he replied.

"Writers block?" I asked him curiously.

He nodded as he took a sip of his drink. Latte, I think. He made a face and put it back down muttering quietly, probably to himself, "It's gone cold".

"Well, from experience I know you should never try and force inspiration. You have to wait for it to come to you" I told him with a smile. "And you should never forget about a hot drink, in case, yes, it goes cold."

He chuckled.

"You have a lot of experience?" he asked curiously. Though I did notice he was shuffling his paper's together nervously. Did he not want me to read it?

"I'm a writer. My stories appear in The Ladies magazine every month." I told him. "You should read one. I'm 'The Girl In the Red Coat'. That's my alias."

He chuckled. "I can tell why that's your alias."

I looked down at the sleeves of my coat and shrugged. "It's my favourite"

I took another sip of my Hot Chocolate. He took another sip of his latte, probably on instinct, before making another face and putting the latte far away from him. I giggled to myself. He was just too cute.

He looked at his watch. His eyes widened. "Um. I have to go. Um, perhaps I'll see you again sometime."

I put one finger to him, telling him to wait, while I fished through my bag for a pen. The first pen I reached my permanent marker so I pulled that out and grabbed his arm and wrote -

_07891735277_

_call me :P - Eva_

He smiled, collected his stuff together and left. I watched as he left, turning right out of door, so he passed the window, before realising something, stopping, turning around and hurrying off in the other direction. I giggled again. Cute.

It wasn't long before he called me. Only a few hours in fact. I was sat in my apartment room, typing up the beginning of my next issue when my mobile went off. I looked down at it and saw it was an unknown number. I flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Eva? This is Tim. We met at the coffee shop earlier." he said through the phone. He sounded nervous.

"Oh, hi. Tim" I replied.

The conversation between us flowed naturally. We started with the topic of being writers. He told me that a female colleague of his was an avid fan of my writing. He said that it came to a shock to him because she didn't seem like the type, and she had trouble understanding English sometimes.

"Yeah, the magazine is read by quite a few people. Though consider yourself lucky, not many people know who I am. Not even my own father knows my alias." I told him.

"I feel honoured" he replied with a chuckle. "Your writing is very good"

"Thank you for the compliment, it means a lot from a fellow writer." I told him.

"My writing would never meet the standards that you write at." he replied.

I had a feeling that he was just being humble. I would have to change that. "Well, why don't you let me read some and I'll let you know what I think, after all a second opinion is always good for a writer."

"Perhaps if I see you again, I'll bring a copy with me" he suggested lightly.

"When are you free?" I asked him, liking the idea of meeting again.

"Is tomorrow too soon?" he asked.

"Depends, is this a meeting between friends or a date?" I asked him curious.

"What do you want to be?" he asked nervously. I think I was right in my previous assessment, he wasn't used to the attention of girls or women.

"Well, I haven't been on a date in a while" I hinted carefully.

"A date is then. Shall I pick you up at about seven?" he asked.

"Sure. Seven would be great" I replied.

I gave him my address and said my goodbyes. I had a smile on my face for the rest of the evening. I was going to enjoy my date, I could feel it. I thought about telling my dad for a moment, but then I decided against it. Dad would probably want to talk to Tim. I didn't want him scaring off yet another one of my boyfriends.

* * *

**AN: HI, HOPE YOUR ENJOYING MY NEW STORY! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT IT! I HOPE TO UPDATE AS SOON AS I CAN!**


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